Fan the Flames
by Sweet Roses
Summary: Revolved around the background of how Miguel got into the DS and how he became second in command to Dilandau up until Zongi murders him
1. Span

Okay, to all readers. This is my sixth Escaflowne fan fic (which I do not own… the show that is). In this chapter (possible others) there will be flashbacks. To define them I will put them in italics.

Chapter One: Span

How could this happen to me? 

_I made my mistakes_

_I've no where to run_

The night goes on 

_As I'm fading away_

_I'm sick of this life_

_I just want to scream_

_How could this happen to me?_

-

A gray sky hung over the land as a young boy with sandy blonde hair made his way up huge stone steps. They looked old, possible more then a hundred since there was moss in every stride he took. He had a lot on his mind and he figured it showed in his eyes, so vacant, emotionless. He didn't want to be here. He was sure that was noticeable too.

_It didn't take long. His mind was made up and he knew it. He knew he couldn't fight his father, and his mother wasn't much of help either. She would just stand there and scream at them, saying that it was going to be all right when she cleaned his wounds. _

_He just didn't want to go, but he had to. It was decided. By his father. He tried to explain that he just wasn't cut out to be in the military and that he was compassionate. _

'_Are you a man? Because if you are men join the militia, women stay home and clean.' It was a common thing for him. His father always questioned his manhood, made him feel like dirt. _

_He wasn't raised to be in the militia. Mostly his mother raised him. His father didn't give a damn, he never would. He didn't want a son, he didn't even want a daughter, and he just wanted to have his wife all to himself. It killed his old man to see his wife mothering her child and he found it funny. So in spite of his father's anger of this matter, he would sleep with the teddy bear that she made him every night; even at the age of fifteen. _

'_Where do you think you're going with that mange ridden thing? This is the army boy, not pre-school.' Angry, his father ripped the bear out of his hand and threw it on the floor, where the dog picked it up and walked away with it. _

'_It's just a keepsake, something to remind him of home. Let him take it.' His mother pleaded once more. _

'_Forget it.' He mumbled. His father raised his hand, a normal threat in the household that he didn't flinch anymore. When it came crashing down he didn't feel it anymore. Sure he felt it physically, but no longer did he feel it emotionally. _

'_You don't need to bring all this either, they provide for you. Why do you think it's a good idea for you to enroll?' _

'_So you don't have to.'_

_His father stuck a finger in his face and warned him, 'listen, joining this army will be the best thing that ever happened to you. So don't blow it.' _

It was amazing to him that he came here. He could have run away, he should have run away while he had the chance. Instead he found himself in front of two huge doors doing what he thought he never would do, listening to his father and enrolling in the army.

'_I want you to have this. My mother gave it to me when I left home, but I haven't been able to use it.' His mother handed him a small book, a diary he presumed. 'I- I want you to write in it, and give it to your children. I love you so much. Please take this; I've been saving this. If for any reason you leave the army, use this to buy food until you've found a stable job.' She opened the diary and slipped it in a pocket on the side. She kissed the side of his forehead. _

He opened the doors with strength and noticed that there were many other people there. He walked solemnly towards the bushel, the diary clutched in his hands.

'You there,' a voice came from behind him. 'I can help you here.' There were some groans in the other line, but he didn't want to start disobeying now, so he walked towards the man.

'Name.' He stated.

'Miguel L-L- Lavariel' he stuttered.

'Ah right, your father came down, said you were a real champion with a sword. Lord Dilandau would be pleased to hear that.'

Before Miguel could question the man said, 'here is your serial number, each one is different. While you're in training, this number and this number will recognize you only. If you wish to share your name with your comrades in your bedding area you may, but names never leave there. Understand?'

Miguel nodded as he was given a card with a serial number on it.

'There is, however, an exception. Lord Dilandau is taking the fifteen best soldiers; if you are one of them you will have more privileges. He will also be taking six elite soldiers, so do your best. Also, if you are an elite you have a name.'

'May I remind you that the captain and other higher authorities will know you as the last four digits. You have to wear this always, if this is not abided by consequences will be made.' The man then handed him some sheets for him to sign. He then handed him a map and some more papers for him to read over. The man went on for a few more minutes before he let Miguel leave.

Miguel read the last four digits on his serial number, 4851. He sighed. He wasn't even done being schooled, and they want him in the militia.

'Hey watch it!' Miguel absentmindedly ran into someone and ended up falling onto the floor.

'Sorry' he said without looking up and instantly grabbing his mother's diary.

'Here.' Miguel looked up and there was a hand in front of his face.

'Thank you.' He grabbed the helping hand and stood himself up. 'I'm…'

'4851…' said the light brown haired boy. 'We're in a room together. Good thing that other guy wasn't, he didn't look too friendly.

'How do you know we're in a room together?' He asked the boy as they started to walk up another set of stairs.

'Didn't you listen? If the fourth last number is the same, you're in the same room as the other serial number holders. There are three to a room.' The boy seemed to be very bright. Either that or he just listened well.

'So, what's your name… serial number?' Miguel asked as his shirt was tugged to go left instead of right.

'4666. I figure it as a bad omen really.' He flipped some hair out of his eyes and then stopped abruptly. 'There!' he said and pointed to a sheet of paper on a door. Above the door was a gold plate with 4000 imprinted on it.

'Look,' the boy started. He was pointing at some numbers on the sheet. '4666, that's me, you, 4851 and 4547.'

'That's me.' It was a quiet voice, almost as if the speaker was unsure to say anything at all. He had blonde hair and the most beautiful blue eyes that reminded Miguel of his mother's eyes.

'Hi,' the other boy smiled. 'Let's go in. I presume we have the rest of the night to get our things in order.' The brown haired boy made his way inside. Miguel let the blond in before he went.

A very musty, un-used sent filled his nostrils. It was obvious that no one had used it for a while. The room was quite spacious. There were three beds in a semicircle around a fairly large table, with no chairs. The beds were stripped of sheets or pillows and the mattresses didn't seem too comfortable. Miguel went for the middle one, it looked like the most comfortable, and placed his few belongings on it.

'We have a bathroom too!' said the brown-haired boy. Miguel didn't want to be thrilled, for there was no reason he believed. It was only a bathroom, a dirty, disgusting bathroom that he had to share with two other men.

He stood at the door and scanned the small room. There was a cubical shower with a tattered green curtain, two towel bars, and a sink that appeared to be leaking for sometime, hence the rust spot formulating.

He walked back to his bed and sat gingerly on it. 'I'm Miguel.' He said to the other two. 'I-I find it would be easier if we just called each other by our given names while in here. Don't you?' He wasn't making any eye contact with the other two.

'Yea! I'm Gatti.' The brown-haired boy shoved a hand in front of Miguel and he shook it, next Gatti went to the blond.

'Shesta.' He said simply.

There was a soft knock on the door and Gatti rushed to answer it. There was a woman with dark long hair and glasses standing there. She was holding a bunch of papers and said, '4547, 4851, and 4666?' The three boys nodded. 'Great, this is a schedule of all your training. Where it is, what it is, when it is and how to get there.' She seemed a pro at this Miguel noticed. She handed the papers to Gatti and went on her way.

'Well, lets see what this is about.' Gatti said.

-

Okay, please let me know what you think. If I should continue or not? (I only need one review to know!)

Anyway, thanks for reading, please review

Yours truly,

Sweet Roses


	2. Fade

Chapter Two: Fade

_I just needed someone to talk to _

_You were just too busy with yourself_

_You were never there for me _

_To express how I felt _

-

Miguel sat patiently on his bed while Gatti divided the papers, which had certain training dates, and how many times a day it was. It reminded Miguel of school all over again, except not in a one-room schoolhouse.

'We are to pick up our swords tomorrow at five in the morning and then go for out first fencing lesson.'

Miguel groaned. It was the one thing he hated more then his father was getting up _that _early.

'Where are we supposed to pick up our swords?' Shesta inquired.

'Give me a moment… ah! It says that we're supposed to get them in the south wing, in the "Armories room". There's a side note, "if for any reason you are expelled, you must return all weaponry" awe that's not fair.' Gatti complained and tossed the papers on the floor in boredom and anger.

'I have an idea.' Shesta said. 'To get there without hassle, we should go find it now. Since there isn't anything to do.' He added as a side note.

'Are you sure we're allowed to wonder around this place without being instructed?' Miguel pondered. He wasn't one to purposely break the rules. He tried to stay away from anything that looked fishy. 'I don't think we should go.' Miguel said but the others were already pulling on their shoes.

'C'mon Miguel.' Gatti picked up his shoes and threw them at him, Miguel put his hands and knees up in defense and the shoes went flying in different directions.

'What are you doing?' Miguel shouted in antagonism. He jumped up and grabbed his shoes with force that he almost dropped them again. Gatti stifled a laugh while Shesta looked at him amused as he slumped back on his hard mattress.

'Are you going with us or not?'

'Send me letter!' he mumbled. Shesta sighed and left the room.

Gatti looked at him until Miguel looked up at him with the same sour frown. 'It was just a shoe, Miguel.' He said quietly. Miguel kept quiet. He hated things being thrown at him. He had his reasons and he didn't feel like sharing.

'Shouldn't you be leaving?' He asked quietly, averting his gaze. Gatti signed audibly and then left the room slamming the door so that Miguel jumped slightly.

There was an unnerving hum in the room that signified its silence. Miguel pushed his hands down on his bed to check for any softness at all. He missed his old bed; at least it was soft in the middle.

The door opened suddenly and another person walked in with piles of sheets and towels in front of its face. Miguel got up and helped the person and soon found out that it was the girl who brought his room the papers.

'Here.' She said. She seemed very tired. 'Laundry is every week at eight am so don't miss it. If you do, you will have to wait another week etcetera. Your code names are imprinted on all your bedding so do not mix them up.' With that said, she turned on heel and left. Miguel thought in the back of his head that he would rather have a woman's job then be here in training.

He unfolded the sheets and found his matching set and started to make his bed. It wasn't very much. A bottom sheet, a top sheet a small pillow and a thin fleece gray blanket were all that they were given.

Once again he sat in silence.

Sickening, spin tingling, silence that crept through the cracks and settled over his shoulders. He tried to shake it off but he couldn't. He couldn't stand the silence; it was uncomforting he just wanted to scream! Miguel jumped off his bed as the door once again opened.

'Hi! Were in the room next to yours.' Said a boy who looked a little younger then the fifteen-year-old Miguel.

'We're the 5000 series.' The smaller boy smiled. The two walked in and shut the door after them.

'Hey I know that we're not supposed to tell everyone our name but I just find it a little weird calling everyone by 5730 okay?' The younger boy had emerald eyes. He leaned against the wall, appearing to make himself more comfortable. The other boy made his way to a vacant bed.

The other boy was really short, disguising his appropriate age. He had short, jet black hair and eyes to match.

'I'm Guimel and that's Sebastian.' Sebastian nodded when the boy standing up said his name. Guimel made his way towards Miguel who recoiled a little with instinct. Guimel offered a hand and with difficulty Miguel gave him his.

'Viole, our other roommate went off somewhere.' He said while shaking his hand.

'Did you come here because you wanted to?' Miguel asked shyly.

'Of course! Who doesn't want to be Dragon Slayer? It is honorable to become a part of something as great as that.' Sebastian said excitedly.

'Somewhat.' Guimel added. 'What about you?'

Miguel remained silent. 'Oh yea! Of course I came here because I wanted to. The uh, Dragon Slayers are so amazing. I hope I even become part of the elite.' Miguel felt his heart sink with every word he spoke.

'That would be amazing!' Sebastian agreed.

'Well, if you two don't mind, I was about to have a shower so if you… well, wouldn't mind?' The two nodded, said their goodbyes and left.

Miguel leaned against the door, groaning. He felt down all of a sudden, almost hurt that he was here when he should be at home looking after his mother, even when she rarely looked after him.

He walked over to his bed and grabbed the journal that he brought. He then walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower. He sat in the corner of the bathroom and started to write.

"This isn't right. I should not have to be here. I should be able to do whatever I please. Not be condemned to what my father wanted me to be. I'm being treated like a woman, but at least they get to stay at home.

I hate being here. I hate the people, I hate the room, and I hate everything about this place. Why father? Why did you make me come here?

You self-indulgent, insistent bastard! Just want her to yourself don't you? You don't care about her! You don't care about anything but your needs! I'm sick of your passive aggressive bullshit! All those times you threw me against the floor! All those times I tried to protect her!"

He wasn't aware of it until it splashed on the page and smeared his writing that he was crying. He was hateful of his father so much that it brought his to tears once more. He slammed the book closed and painfully wiped the tears away. He stood up and walked out of the steamy bathroom to his bed where he lied down with his back to the door. He was curled up in a ball with the book between his arms, staring daringly at the blank wall and eventually fell asleep.

-

Miguel stirred and rolled over, his diary falling to the floor. He sat up and looked around the room. The water had stopped running and the two other beds were messed with the sheets strewn.

Miguel bolted out of bed and rushed to put on his shoes. Grabbing the piece of paper that he had gotten last night and rushed out the door, forgetting his serial number.

He hadn't the slightest clue as of where to go. He turned down each corridor and went this way and that but to no avail. He didn't even know what time it was or where he was supposed to be even. Right now, he was set on finding the south wing. Upon pondering of where to go next he ran right into a wall.

His paper went flying in one direction and he went in the other. He rubbed his head and then noticed that he didn't run into a wall, he ran into a person.

'I'm sorry.' Miguel said to the man. Miguel noticed that the man had two swords.

'Oh! You must be in the same situation as I am. I can't find the south wing to get my sword.

'Here, use this one.' He handed Miguel one.

'Thank you so much.'

'Don't worry; it's only been a half hour since practice began.' Miguel thanked the God's and followed the man, who seemed to know where he was going. He opened a heavy door which had 'training' written on a gold plaque above the doors. When he walked in all the talking stopped and the soldiers straightened up in a straight line. Miguel took this as a bad sign and started to walk in line.

The man that brought him there threw him carelessly to the middle of the room.

'Most of you know, I am Dilandau Sama. You will _always _address me as that, but only when you are addressed by me. I will not tolerate cheekiness in this area and I will _not_ tolerate _lateness._' He looked venomously at Miguel who looked sheepishly at the floor.

'Now, you must come in the proper attire as well. For example take a look at this subject. Messy hair, not tolerable, loose shirt, not tolerable, shoes,' Dilandau looked behind his subject and then back at his soldiers. 'Half on. Not. Tolerable. No serial number either? State your number.'

Miguel racked his brain but he couldn't remember it. He just wanted to say Miguel. Miguel. Miguel! MIGUEL!

'Mi-' he said silently but stopped himself.

'Dilandau Sama, he's number 4851.' Said the familiar voice of Gatti, who spoke out of turn. Dilandau glared at him and then turned to Miguel.

'Take your place in line, soldier.' Miguel scurried beside a boy with shoulder length black hair and stood erect. Dilandau walked over to Gatti and backhanded him unrepentantly, 'What did I just say?' he asked. Gatti's head had snapped to the side and Miguel could see the pained expression on his face.

'Not to speak unless ordered to, Dilandau Sama.' He said quietly, looking at him.

'Right. Does anyone else have anything to say?' He paced up and down the line just waiting for someone to say something. Dilandau knew the main focus of everyone's eyes was his fingers, which were pulling on his left leather glove.

-

Well, there is the next chapter. Please leave me a review I would be ever so thankful:) Anyway. I have to go to work in thirty minutes so thanks for reading- leave a review please!

Yours truly,

Sweet Roses


	3. I'm Ok

Chapter 3: I'm Ok

It hurt me to see the pain

Across my mother's face

Every time my father's fist

Would put her in her place

Hearing all the yelling

I would cry up in my room

Hoping it would be over soon

'_Don't you dare, don't you even dare laugh, boy.' He had to admit it was really hard to contain the laughter that Miguel wanted express but he had to comply, for his own good. A seven-year-old Miguel cleared his throat as his father picked himself up out of the mud hole. The look on his father's face was unmistakable. It was the look that his father got every time that Miguel wouldn't be receiving the worst of the blows. _

_Infuriated, Miguel's father grabbed his son's hair dragged him back up the hillside to his abode. _

_'Open the door.' His father commanded. Miguel was thrown against the wooded door and fumbled for the door handle when his mother opened it. Miguel was angry with himself. He knew he'd be punished for even thinking about laughing but he knew that somehow his mother would now be dragged into the whole situation. _

_'What happened' his mother asked with sadness when she saw that her husband was covered in mud from head to toe. _

_'Nothing happened mother.' Miguel said but his father smacked him upside the head._

_'Your son is a bloody liar.' Miguel looked to the floor._

_'There is no need to be upset; it's only a little mud. Here, let me get you a towel.'_

_'I'll do it.' Miguel said, wanting to get as far away as possible but he was brought back roughly but the collar of his shirt. _

_'You will go to your room and stay there.' His father warned him and then threw him against the floor. _

_'But,' he protested but his mother cut him off. _

_'Go.' She said gently but still the hardness in her voice made him want to stay even more. 'Go.' She commanded once again. _

_'Another black eye.' He thought to himself. 'Why can't this stop?' He stood at the edge of the stairs until he heard his father yelling and walking towards the bathroom directly in front of the staircase. Miguel quietly sank to the floor behind his door. _

_Tick, tock_

_Tick, tock_

_Tick, tock_

_TICK, TOCK_

_TICK, TOCK_

Miguel awoke to the frantic attempts made by the clock on the wall to move past 12:08, it just kept springing back and forth between 8 and 9. He put his head back in his lap. After his lateness that morning, Dilandau isolated him in this room where the clock was not even working.

The most he knew was that it had stopped at 12:08, whether it stopped that day or weeks ago, he didn't know. Not that it really mattered anyway. What was he going to do with a few wasted hours, spend it alone on his moldy mattress?

The room was damp and mostly dark, with the exception of an almost melted candle. One of his main sources of light was a little hole near the bottom of the wall. Miguel had noticed this when he first awoke, but shrugged it off because it was too small to fit through and if he yelled no one would care.

It was then on this train of thought when a heavy door opened and Dilandau stepped through, not looking the slightest bit pleased.

Miguel stood up as fast as he could, but his legs were really stiff from sitting. He stumbled and used the wall for support. It took him longer then it should to have to bow to Dilandau and for this Miguel received the nastiest glare from him.

'Would you tell me why you're in the army?' He asked scathingly.

'It was the wish of my father, sir' Miguel answered in false reply. Although, yes it was the wish of his father for him to join the army but not in the sense as one would first perceive. Miguel's father wanted him to join the militia because he hated the competition for his wife's affection and attention.

'Why don't you just go home then?'

Miguel's heart caught in his throat. 'Sir, please sir, I can't go home.' Miguel soon found a sting in his left cheek.

'Do not beg.' Dilandau said strictly.

'Yes, sir but, I cannot go home, I would have to live on the streets and I would rather be here then out there alone.' Miguel looked down at his crossed hands, which he seemed to have made a bloody mess out of. He had been picking at his fingers absentmindedly. As humbly as possible he put his hands behind his back.

'Your father wont take you back?' Miguel shook his head. 'Are you willing to at least try, I hear you have some skill.'

'I will try sir, very hard if I am allowed to stay.' Miguel said with his head bowed.

'I'm not letting you stay to be nice, realize that, I just rather see a good soldier in the army then the streets.'

'Thank you, Dilandau Sama' Miguel bowed his head and then Dilandau left, leaving the door open behind him.

Miguel waited before Dilandau was gone completely and then he left. He felt so much appreciation for Dilandau that all he wanted to do was serve him. Dilandau did a great favor for him and he wanted to repay him with his faithfulness.

Well, sorry about the wait, I just finished directing a play, (and got an award of excellence yea) and I haven't even touched the computer for weeks (because everyone else was hogging it) so finally since the little bastard is gone I can actually use it woo! Um this chapter was actually a lot longer but since I was going back and forth from work I was using a disk and it got run over and well, half of this chapter got destroyed. Anyway please leave a review

Yours truly,

Sweet Roses

Thanks to those who have reviewed, it means a lot! And thanks for reading. :)


	4. Nobody's Listning

**Sorry for the long wait. Here is the next chapter, so please enjoy and then review! **

**Chapter 4**

**Nobody's Listening**

Try to give you warning

But everyone ignores me

Told you everything loud and clear

But nobody's listening

Call to you so clearly

But you don't want to hear me

Told you everything loud and clear

But nobody's listening

----Llllllll

It had been three weeks since the favor Dilandau did for Miguel, at least that's what Miguel thought it was. The training was just starting to get tough, no more of the practices. For the next 2 months the training will separate the boys from the men.

Miguel hoped that he had become man enough over the last month to be on Dilandau's elite squad. He wished for nothing more. He had heard great things from some of the others about the elite squad members.

'How do you know if you've been picked?' Miguel asked.

'You just know. Well, Dilandau will let you know.' Gatti said.

'Sama! Its Dilandau Sama, not just Dilandau' Miguel said gently.

'Yea, whatever, he isn't here, so it doesn't matter.' Gatti seemed to shrug it off as if he didn't care if he got kicked out.

There are five squads. First is the elite, which consists of the six very best slayers that serve and protect Dilandau Sama. Second comes the red squad (10 members). These slayers work with the elite. They fight for Dilandau Sama, but their job it to simply wipe out the enemy. In third comes the black squad (20 members) who are in charge of guarding and fighting off enemies around the premises. Folken Sama guides this group and he is second in charge. Forth, comes the blue squad (65 members). This group typically is the run-off of the black squad. Their job is to rid enemies on the inside, if any pass the black squad. The final squad, the white (80 members) aren't fit enough to be in the blue squad, but good enough to stay. This group takes care of the ill, cooks and is usually the janitorial staff. Sometimes if there is a shortage in the blue squad, then the best of the white can fill that shortage.

Miguel felt furious at the people he was competing against. He felt that, with his luck, he'd be the one in the lowest squad and the people who didn't give a shit about Dilandau would get his place in the elite squad.

However, Dilandau did seem to like him, as did Folken. A lot of the time, Miguel would have the privilege to demonstrate what Dilandau had already taught him.

Dilandau had really taken a liking to him. Miguel figured it was because he was so eager to learn. That or just in a few months he actually became a fair match for Dilandau. Yet, he still lost to him.

Ever since that day when Dilandau forgave him for being late, Miguel has given Dilandau all his faith and loyalty. He couldn't see why the others were not doing so. They talked badly behind his back, especially when he had punished one of them, but Miguel understood why. Dilandau was strict, but he had to be. This was the military. One couldn't wonder around, engaging in minute battles expecting that it would get them far.

Miguel sat alone at supper. It was still months ahead before the groups were chosen. Still Miguel was panicking. There wasn't a time that he didn't think about sword fighting. While he ate, slept and even when he was on leisure time, he just wanted to be the best.

'Hey, why are you all alone' Shesta asked, sitting down beside him.

'No one over there really likes me. Don't think I don't know what they say about me.' Miguel was staring at his discolored green peas. Shesta's features distorted and he looked back at the table of unruly comrades.

'Well, don't think they mean it.' He said, trying to comfort him.

'Do you agree with them?'

'Eh?'

Miguel put his fork down and shoved away his partially eaten food. 'Do you agree with them? Do you think that I'm not worthy of Dilandau's respect? That I only got this far because of my father?' his face was flustered and Shesta sat looking at him with innocent eyes.

Miguel closed his and put his head down. Those eyes reminded him of his mothers'.

'Isn't it?' he questioned.

Miguel flared up inside. 'It's my father's fault I'm here in the first place.' He whispered harshly so that only Shesta could hear. All he needed was for the others to hear. It would only be something else that they could make fun of him for.

He stood up and left the table and Shesta sitting there with his half eaten food. Miguel headed towards the training room. If he wanted to loyally serve Dilandau he would have to train more then he was scheduled to.

As he entered the training room a boy was in there, apparently doing the same thing he was going to do. He was one of many that got on Dilandau's nerves. He was 2976.

'I didn't know anyone else would be in here.' The boy said, wiping off his forehead.

'Well, since you're in here I may as well make it worth my while. Want to practice with another soldier, or do you prefer an imaginary one?' Miguel asked solemnly. He knew what it was like just attacking thin air, and was hoping that the younger one would oblige.

The boy nodded eagerly, bowed and then ran straight for Miguel before his sword was even out. Miguel, without hesitation unsheathed his sword and blocked it before the boy's sword could do any damage.

He continued his barrage of attacks and Miguel continuously blocked them. He was really an easy opponent. Miguel shoved him off with his sword and attempted to, as he would in an actual battle, behead him. However, he blocked it, pushed Miguel off and cut his left arm in the process.

Miguel winced in pain and stepped back for a second. Both boys were breathing loudly. His casual shirt was starting to become soaked with blood. The boy gave a smirk worthy of Miguel's father and a spark triggered inside him.

It was a smirk that his father got every time his father sword hit his mother and then he would come for him. Miguel screamed in frustrated anger and charged at him, relentlessly bashing his sword into the boys. His last attack caused the boy to fall. At the height of Miguel's madness he was about to kill the boy but they were interrupted.

It was surely a sight to see. Miguel standing over the boy, sword raised with madness in his eyes ready to destroy him as the boy coward beneath him.

'That will be enough. You, go back to your quarters.' Folken said to the boy who grabbed his sword and rushed off as fast as he could. 'And you, off to the infirmary.' Miguel nodded towards Folken and made his was out, sheathing his sword on the way. He noticed Dilandau off to the side, followed by what looked like every other Dragon Slayer there.

Llllllll

The Infirmary smelt of antiseptics and the old. He sat down on a chair waiting for someone to come out of the back room. His arm was really starting to hurt, but it was also starting to become quite numb.

'You must be 4851…' said a voice, the owner looking down on a paper. It was a young woman about 18. She didn't look like a doctor but Miguel supposed she was.

'Just between you and me, what is your real name?'

'Uh… Miguel' he said at once.

'I'm Clara. I just find it more professional to know a patients name before I do some work on them. Which, by the way, looks like you'll need stitches.

She was beautiful, he couldn't argue. Longish brown hair that curled around her face and neck, fair skin and deep green eyes, her smile was inviting and warming. 'I do?' He asked.

'Yes about 30, maybe more. So take your shirt off and we can get started.' She said and then turned around and began writing again on the clipboard.

'Get started?' he breathed.

'Yes, first I need to clean the wound and then stitch it. That's what I'm here for.'

'Can't I just roll my sleeve up, it's really loose.' He asked, and the girl laughed.

It's ok. I'm not going to be looking. I'm just going to be doing my job.' Miguel hesitated before taking his shirt off. Although he had difficulty and she had to help him when it came to his hurt arm.

'Wow, you seem to have a lot of scars.' She said looking across his chest. Miguel turned him arm towards her.

'Can you just get this over with?'

'Sorry, its just you seem so nervous like this is your first time getting stitches.' She grabbed a warm bowl of water and rigged out a cloth and started to wipe off the blood.

'Ow.' He said quickly.

'Sorry.' She replied.

'It is my first time actually.' He told her.

'Really? But…'

'I always just let them heal naturally, they weren't really in need of stitches.' He said.

'Maybe not all of them, but there are defiantly some of them.' She ran her fingers across one on his back and flinched. 'Sorry.'

'What are they from?' She asked while getting the needle and thread ready. Miguel was really nervous about the way the needle looked. It was crooked and big looking, not like the ones to mend clothing.

'Um…stuff.' He said and she laughed a little.

'Very good.' She said and he shrugged his good shoulder.

'All right, I'm going to start so just calm down and relax. Just talk to me ok?' She told him as she sat down to the level of his arm.

He nodded.

'So how did you get involved with the slayer business?' She questioned when he didn't start any conversation.

'My father forced me.'

'Oh. Well my father made me go into medicine and then my mother made me go with the Zaibach thing. I can tall you I hate working for that smug little brat Dilandau.'

'Hey!' Miguel shouted and pulled, hurting his arm.

'What?' she was taken aback.

'Don't talk about Dilandau Sama that way.'

'I'm sorry, but he doesn't treat women very well.' She said as she calmed him down enough to start again.

'Dilandau Sama is a good soldier and captain. He may be strict but he needs to be.' Miguel said notably.

She sighed. 'Whatever you say.'

Llllllll

Training the next day was hard. He had to use both arms for the activity. Dilandau was standing in the middle of the room circling as usual, explaining how to easily kill someone.

'And once you have them blocking your attack from above you take your dagger and stab it in his gut, and twist.' Dilandau didn't seem phased by that cheep was of fighting but someone certainly did.

'Uh, Dilandau sir,' he piped up. 'Isn't that a little somewhat disloyal?' Dilandau turned to the soldier who chose to speak to him in such a manner as to prove him wrong.

'Soldier 9195, step forward.' Dilandau shouted as he sheathed his sword but still hung onto the dagger. The boy's eyes widened as he stepped forwards. There were some sniggers, but mostly every stood attentive waiting for something to happen.

The loud slap came, that was no surprise. But when the boy stood up to leave, and Dilandau didn't let him, was the surprise.

'I take it that you think your life is worth living do you?' Dilandau questioned playfully.

'Yes Dilandau Sama!' he shouted.

Dilandau became angry in seconds. 'Then WHY' he shouted 'wont you kill a man if he is attacking you?' Dilandau grabbed the man's front uniform and dragged him forward taunting him with the sharp side of the blade.

'He will not take leisure just because you don't kill him. That just gives him more opportunity to kill you. I do not need incompetence in my Dragon Slayers' He threw the soldier on the ground and turned to face everyone else. 'Understand?' he shouted.

'Yes, Dilandau Sama!' the group shouted loudly.

'Get back in line' He ordered to the heap on the floor.

The boy jumped up and ran back in line, a frightened look upon his face. Others were looking at him and then at Dilandau just thinking that it was slightly rash to throw him on the floor.

'Miguel' Dilandau called out over the group. Miguel froze. It was not normal for him to call him by his first name…or any name at all for that matter.

Everyone froze, including Miguel. He was not expecting anyone, especially Dilandau, to call him by his real name. However, Dilandau seemed completely unfazed by this matter and instead looked directly at him.

'I don't like asking you twice.' He said in a sharp tone that made Miguel cringe coming out of line.

The other soldiers were looking at him like he had done something wrong. Perhaps he had…perhaps he thought he had been doing something right, when all along he was making all the mistakes. Maybe Dilandau was going to kick him out of the Dragon Slayers.

'Yes Dilandau Sama?' Miguel said and bowed slightly, then standing in an erect position.

'This is what you should be aiming for.' Dilandau said in a loud, dissatisfying voice. Soldiers looked at each other in wonder and Miguel continued to stare at the floor and swallowed hard.

'All of you are still disrespectful to each other and yourself and me.' He yelled. 'Miguel is the only one with enough apathy with this business to actually show me some respect.'

Miguel was confused. He didn't understand where Dilandau was going with this. Miguel didn't believe that he was unconcerned with the whole Dragon Slayers issue. Although, the only reason he was doing so, was so that he wouldn't have to be on the street and therefore was loyal to Dilandau… Miguel focused hard on the floor trying to weave together Dilandau's words.

'Miguel is ahead of every one of you in his training and could beat a number of you. Although he is not yet able to beat myself, his strength is worthy. I suggest you treat him with more respect since he is now second in command of you incompetents.'

'WHAT?' Miguel shouted.

There was uproar about this and Dilandau went on a frenzy of hitting the closest to him until they were quiet.

'Are you suggesting that I'm wrong? That I should have chosen one of you? Half of you couldn't kill a lamb. Dismissed.' Dilandau shouted at his men and they started to leave.

Another soldier hit Miguel on his way out, but he wants too shocked to care. 'Dilandau Sama…are you sure…'

Dilandau stretched out his hand and smacked Miguel across the face. 'I told you dismissed.' He seethed and then left himself, leaving Miguel in the middle of the training room.

He felt a warm tingling in his arm and looked over to see what it was. His wound had reopened when he was hit and there was blood tricking from under his uniform onto the floor.

Llllllll

'Clara?' Miguel said as he entered the infirmary. He looked around and it was dark. He wondered why she would work in the dark. It reminded him of his house, the dark. It was always dark.

_'Miguel what have I told you about wasting candles?' _

_'I'm sorry! I just wanted to play before I went to bed that's all Dad.' Miguel sat on the floor with a horse in one hand and a knight in the other. The only source of light came from the candle that he was playing in front of. _

_'You're getting too old for these toys Miguel. You're never going to become a man if you keep playing with them.' His father roughly grabbed the toys out of his hands and threw them across the room. It was took dark to see what happened. _

_'Please, just let him play. It builds their imagination.' Miguel's mother came in and was trying to reason with her husband. _

_'It's your fault he's going to turn out a wimp. He's never going to amount to anything if you keep making him those stupid toys' the tall man raised his hand and hit the child in front of him. Miguel coward back towards his bed in fear of his father and it was only seconds before he turned on Miguel's mother instead of him. _

'_He can't even take punishment without crying.' _

'_He's only five!' the woman shouted, but the man got angry at her screaming and dragged her out of the small room and slammed the door. Miguel stated crying in hysterics pushed himself father into the wall as if he could escape the yelling in the next room. _

_He picked up his half broken knight and pretended that he was the knight on a mission to kill his father. Anger engulfed him, but he continued to cry unknowing what to do. _

'Miguel! Miguel! Are you alight?' a familiar female voice echoed in his ear.

Miguel blinked. He had been crying and was sitting in the middle of the infirmary.

'Miguel, what's wrong?' Clara looked so concerned as she kneeled over him. The tears continued to fall from his eyes, but he made no movement or said anything. Clara wrapped her arms around him and brought him closer to her.

'Shh…calm down Miguel are you hurt?' she asked seeing the blood on his hand. 'Does it hurt?' Miguel shook his head and grasped onto her shirt. 'Miguel I need to have a look at that.' She said, feeling quite restricted by him. She attempted to pull back his uniform, but he instantaneously started screaming and pushed her away.

'Miguel! MIGUEL!' she shouted at him over his piecing screamed and he stopped and looked directly at her.

'What?' he asked frightfully as if he hadn't remembered what happened.

'What's wrong with you.' She asked looking worried.

'I- uh- I'm hurt again. The wound re-opened.'

'O- oh.' She said exasperated. 'I thought I told you that you were to stay out of activity for a week or at least until it is healed partially.'

'Sorry.' He said.

'You're going to have to take that off.' She said and then waited for him to remove his uniform jacket. He winced in pain attempting to take it off, but Clara was slightly afraid to help him since last time he freaked out at her.

'Let me help you.' She said and cautiously held out her hand to help and with hesitation he let her.

'You know this could have been avoided.'

'You don't even know what happened.' Miguel said in defense as she started to apply pressure to the wound as to stop the bleeding.

'Well then what happened?'

'I don't know really.' Miguel said quietly. 'Dilandau Sama made me second in command.'

'Oh. Really…' Clara moved away to the table and pretended to look for something. 'I suppose I have to call you Miguel Sama now?' she added bitterly.

'I don't know.' He replied gently.

'I suppose Dilandau trusts you then, and he…' she paused, trying to find the right word. 'Essentially respects you.' She finished with a grimace.

'Why do you hate him so much?'

'You'll see one of these days. He's a bloodthirsty mule waiting for something to kill. He can't wait until he has fifteen deadly trained soldiers to go out and kill with him.' She finished by wrapping a cloth around his arm. 'There, now this time don't hit it on anything and don't use it.'

'Will you hate me too?' Miguel asked, putting his uniform back on.

'I don't know.' She said with her back to him. 'I guess that depends on you, doesn't it?'

'Hm?'

'You can leave now.' She said and Miguel waited a second longer before leaving.

Llllllll

'So Miguel, how did you get second in command?' Chesta asked sitting on the end of his bed, staring intently at him. Miguel was trying to ignore the two that he was sharing a room with by reading a book, but it wasn't really working.

'I have a few ideas.' Gatti interrupted. However, Miguel got angry at his comment and threw his book at Gatti, only missing by centimeters. 'Wow! Not friendly tonight,'

Miguel rolled over away from the two and pretended like he was going to sleep. 'I didn't ask to be second in command, but at least I will respect Dilandau Sama's wishes by following his orders. And if you two don't want to be stuck in the kitchens, I suggest you do the same.

'Ah C'mon, Dilandau wont shove us in the kitchen, there's no way! We're almost as good as you. We don't have issues with out families, but we're defiantly almost as good as you.' Gatti said matter-of-factly. Chesta rolled onto his back.

'So what are you supposed to be doing as second in command anyway Miguel? Are you going to be bossing us around like Dilandau Sama does?' Chesta asked.

'Dilandau Sama!' Miguel said absentmindedly, not hearing him say it the first time. 'I—sorry.' He said after. 'I don't know, maybe. Goodnight.' Miguel's arm was throbbing and he almost felt like crying, but somehow the thought of being second in command and being able to repay Dilandau made him feel at ease, almost peaceful.

Llllllll

Okay, tell me what you thought of this chapter. I will update once again sooner or later. I want to finish this fic, I think it will be fairly short. Probably another 5 chapters, not very long!

Please leave me a review and I will love you forever! Ha ha ha!

Yours truly,

Sweet Roses….

(I just finished watching the Escaflowne series so I'm all back into this fic…again…that and I was busy with other fics and school and work and fun fun fun!)


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